"You okay, Knox?" Van Alstyne didn't take his eyes off the window.

"Yeah." She struggled to sit up. "I mean, yes, sir."

"Stay right there. Don't move." She glanced up. Some four or five feet above her, a closed window reflected the maple facing it. Hadley squeezed against the edge of the house, drawing her knees in close, doing her best to disappear.

"You shoot one more time and I swear I'll cap one of 'em here," the man screamed. "I'll blow one of these bitches' heads off!"

The chief raised one hand, showing it was empty, and carefully placed his sidearm on the hood of the truck with the other. Hadley heard the crunch of more tires. Another squad car pulled in, flanking the chief's. The door popped open on the far side. She caught the glint of bright red hair and then a bristle brush of gray. Kevin Flynn and Deputy Chief MacAuley. MacAuley and the chief had a short and inaudible conversation.

"What's going on?" the gunman demanded.

The chief had a way of making his voice big without yelling. "My deputy here says the state SWAT team is on the way. They're not interested in talking to you. But I am."

"Screw you!" the man yelled. His voice, so near, made Hadley's skin crawl.

"C'mon, man, talk to me." The chief sounded like he was about to buy the shooter a beer. "Whaddaya gonna do, shoot one of them? Shoot one of us? They'll send you up to Clinton, life with no chance of parole. For what? Is one of those bitches worth the rest of your life?"

Hadley felt the shock of the chief's words sizzle up her spine. Was this the same guy who said "Excuse me" when he accidentally swore within her ear-shot?